


And Another Thing

by RedEris



Series: White Wolf White Knight [1]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-05-05 07:14:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14612490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedEris/pseuds/RedEris
Summary: Geralt and Vesemir are out on a contract, and Geralt has some grumbling to do.





	And Another Thing

“You know, I actually like being clean. And dry,” Geralt said.

Vesemir, fording through the marsh next to him, grunted in acknowledgement. He adjusted his grip on the heavy pack balanced his head.

“Yen says I must love to stink, or I wouldn’t do it so much. Nose’s a dozen times better than hers. Love to stink…” Geralt trailed off, grumbling.

“Don’t love to stink,” he said. “Love a good bath. Nice fresh soap smell. Clean breeches. Maybe a bit of clove and orange. Nice trimmed beard.”

“Mhm. Next you’ll tell me you like silk sheets,” Vesemir said.

“I do! Don’t like me, though.” Geralt took one chapped, calloused hand off the bundle of his gear for a moment to wave it. “Snags.”

“Damn sorceresses spoiling a perfectly good witcher.”

They fell into silence, squelching hip-deep through brackish water. One of them disturbed some unseen carcass with a foot, and the muck bubbled with the reek of old death.

“Not Yen’s fault. Any sane person would prefer being clean to this. Always liked being clean.”

“I know,” Vesemir replied. “I’m not so old as to be senile yet. You were fussy from the moment I got you.” Geralt snorted. Vesemir sighed with relief as the ground rose and the going got a bit easier. “Rennes wanted to break you of it,” he went on, “by giving you stable duty full-time. I told him you were just as fussy with your gear and that was a habit worth keeping.”

Geralt mulled that over as he shifted his pack back onto his back and shrugged to get it settled.

“Then thanks, I guess.” As he started moving again, his boots squelched nastily. “Still hate this though.”

“Maybe don’t thank me, then, because you’re not going to be bathing soon. Those are the tracks we’re looking for.”

“I see them.”

“Tell you what. When we get back to town, we’ll have the coin to get a tub filled. I’ve got a pouch of dried verbena in my pack, assuming it’s still dry. Smelling like flowers suit you?”

“It does, in fact. It does.”

The two witchers lapsed into companionable silence as they followed the monster’s track.


End file.
